Facade
by Strikey-Chan
Summary: "What's a girl like you doing in here?" Beilschmidt asked. "I'm not a girl," he said. "Well, you're certainly small, aren't you?" "Not a girl." he said again. Two times Kiku loved, three times he wept. Prupan.


**I remember reading a fanfiction a long time ago that inspired me to do this.**

**I don't own Hetalia Axis Powers, nor do I own the idea of this fanfic. I merely adapted it to another fandom.**

**We need some more Prupan in the world. Seriously.**

* * *

The sky was overcast.

Beilschmidt squinted at the sky and furrows his eyebrows at the heaviness of his stomach. Hunger, when sated, renders taste anew, but too much or too little leaves a sinking feeling in his digestive system.

Whatever. He'll survive for a few days.

"What a waste. I left some crumbs," Beilschmidt said, touching his mouth. When he pulled his fingers away, it left a tangy taste on his lips. The blood stain was also present on the fringes of his robe, dark against the black of his kimono. He grunted.

"I guess I'll have to wash this out now," he said, slightly irritated. He brushed the dirt off his posterior and striped off his clothing. Inside his kimono rested a small knife. The blade shone, still glistening even after the hunt.

The river was certainly quiet at night. Beilschmidt left his clothing on the riverbank. It could be washed out later, after he finished soaking himself. It had been a while since he ventured into the human world.

The grass rustled, near the edge of the river, by the wooden post of the bridge. Beilschmidt blamed his preoccupation with fussing with the water for not sensing the presence, and he raised apprehensive eyes at the intruder. His nails glinted, predatory. He narrowed his eyes.

Maybe he could kill this one for tomorrow's dinner, perhaps?

"Come out, mortal," Beilschmidt spat, "I won't kill you just for peeping."

The shadow was still, but it moved closer. A little too brave, a little too stupid. It stepped forward, one, two, three, and illuminated by the moon, the human seemed unearthly, like a ghost.

Beilschmidt felt his mouth twist into a smirk.

"What's a girl like you doing in here?" Beilschmidt asked. He moved through the water to approach the human, the appearance of grace frolicking around him. "Did they not teach you not to wander too far from home?"

The stranger kept hands to the side loosely. No appearance of fear. Just a facade. Yet he reeks of nervousness. "I'm not a girl," he said, apropos of nothing. Beilschmidt brought a hand to his mouth, amused. Looking closer, he did show his boyish features – his frame was just so delicate and feminine, like a girl's.

"Well, you're certainly small, aren't you?" Beilschmidt's last human meal was an annoying thing, quiet one moment, and crazy the next. This – _boy_, seemed to have much more sense in his life. Beilschmidt liked that.

Beilschmidt stepped onto the riverbank. He smoothed the water down his ears, and licked the water from his fingers. They boy stared at his face, seemingly unmindful of his nudity. As if it did not even register past the brightness of Beilschmidt's eyes, the handsome smirk of his face.

"Not a girl," the stranger said again, quite heatedly.

"Not a girl, then," Beilschmidt concedes, but only to humor him. "What is your name, boy?"

The boy bites his lip. "Kiku Honda."

"Kiku Honda," Beilschmidt tests it out on his tongue. "May I call you by your first name? Kiku?"

He frowned and his eyes glinted. "I would prefer if you refered to me as Honda."

Beilschmidt shrugged, stretching his arms above his head. "Honda then," he said. He leaned forward to inspect Honda's face. "What are you doing here, little boy?"

Honda fumbled and almost tripped on his feet, but Beilschmidt took hold of the boy's body and pulled him closer. He held up Honda's jaw to his face.

"I'm looking for someone," he blurted out. He does not blush, but to Beilschmidt's satisfaction, the top of his ears turned red. "My companion – he's gone missing."

"I'm sure he must miss you very much," Beilschmidt said, looking down at Honda with half-lidded eyes. Was that a plea of help? Or was he just being naïve?

"Have you seen him?" Honda asked, a little lost, and desperate.

"I'm afraid not," Beilschmidt murmured. The way Honda pleaded – it excited him.

"Oh," Honda said, a little disappointed. He wrestled his chin out of Beilschmidt's hold. "In that case, I must be leaving now -"

"I can always take you to him," Beilschmidt said. He didn't want this Honda boy to escape. Not finished playing with him – no, not yet. "For a price."

Honda's eyes wavered. He loosened his grip, submissive and pliant. Beilschmidt smiled. Easy.

"No tricks," said Honda, after a moment.

"No tricks," agreed Beilschmidt. It was lie, yet it wasn't.

Mark it. A boy had forfeited his life.

* * *

"Describe your companion to me," Beilschmidt asked.

"Blonde hair, green eyes. His eyebrows are quite thick, but he has a handsome face."

Beilschmidt raised a brow.

Honda described his friend to Beilschmidt, and he went through insolent motions to search for the presence of a human in the forest. The familiarity of it's appearance stuck to his mind for hours, and yet he forgot where he once remembered. Maybe once, he had strayed too far as a child, or as a demon's recent meal. Rare, perhaps, but Beilschmidt could not recall most humans in his never ending life, their souls too dull to strike a cord.

Not even the past lovers were more than empty pleasures, in his bed.

"I can't find them," Beilschmidt said, a week later. Honda stopped, in the hallway of his home. He stared at Beilschmidt's face, who was already splayed out across the futon. "Nothing."

"No news, then," Honda muttered, his face monotone.

"I'm sorry," Beilschmidt couldn't believe he was apologizing to a mortal. "but I looked everywhere, and you have no idea how much pain it is to look for humans in a forest as thick and dense as that."

Honda sat down, leaning against the walls. He covered his face and shook. When his shoulders began to shake, Beilschmidt scolded himself for his lack of gentleness.

"I'm sorry," Beilschmidt said, even if he wasn't. He hovered over Honda's hunched form, and his fingers fuss at his sleeves. "Forgive me; I didn't mean to sound so rude. You just looked so lonely and I didn't want to give you false hope, and..."

Honda started to cry, louder, now, as if something in him was breaking. Beilschmidt fell to his knees and cupped Honda's cheeks, his fingers brushing away his tears.

"You could always marry me, y'know," Beilschmidt said. His voice was thick, thick with fretting. It was only a split moment later that he realized he meant every word he was saying. "You wouldn't have to be lonely. I don't mind. I could be human, for you. Female too, if you want."

Honda made a strange sound, in his throat, a cross between laughter and a cry. He shook his head, though he smiled.

"What is it?" Beilschmidt asked. "Did I say the wrong thing again?"

"It's just," Honda laughs, "I don't even know your name."

"Oh," Beilschmidt said in relief, and bent to whisper his name into Honda's mouth.

* * *

The boy on the bed is nothing like the boy from the river bank. The ethereal paleness of his skin is replaced by streaks of red. Blushes bloom under Beilschmidt's mouth, their tongues exploring each other in the caves of their mouths. Did he do this with his companion too? Did he scream his name like he knew nothing else?

"Gilbert," Honda panted, as Beilschmidt hiked up his knee to rest on Beilschmidt's shoulder. "Please."

This was payment, in a sense. Beilschmidt lost himself in Honda's unfamiliar heat, the sharp pang of wanting in his belly. It felt different to be inside of him, when his feet remained cold against the slope of Beilschmidt's back. It was hard to take in the intensity of Honda's full-body blush. Hearing, to register the gratifying aborted attempts at his name. His touch, for the goose bumps across Honda's shivering arms. Smell, taste, to ingest the salty aftertaste of Honda's cum, the scent of sex in the aftermath.

Not dull. Anything but dull.

Honda murmurs something Beilschmidt can't hear, but he pays it no heed. He stroked his hair, the nape of his neck. Beilschmidt wanted to replace his fingers with his mouth, to nip at Honda's skin like a scorpion. He wanted to insert those fingers inside Honda, once more, wanted to hear him moan.

"There's a saying about that forest," Beilschmidt said softly. "If you enter it, you never come back. No one ever does."

"That's not true," Honda muttered, into Beilschmidt's chest. Beilschmidt shivered – Honda's breath was cold to the touch.

"You're still waiting for him?" Beilschmidt questioned sharply.

Honda averted his eyes from Beilschmidt. Beilschmidt felt a tinge of regret of asking too much.

He takes a deep breath. He felt his head spin, just a little. "Mortals that go too deep into the forest end up eaten by all sorts of things, if they aren't careful. You shouldn't wait for something that will never arrive."

"Have you?"

"Have I what?"

"Eaten a human before."

Beilschmidt stiffened. "Yeah, I have."

Honda looked up at him with large, doe eyes. "Would you eat me if I asked you to?"

The albino demon sent him a stare. "There's a fine line between hunger and affection, Honda."

"Would you?"

His answer was immediate. "No," Beilschmidt rose to cradle Honda in his arms. He sinks his face into Honda's neck and shoulder. "Never."

* * *

A messenger arrived on the doorstep with a letter in its mouth. Beilschmidt stares at it for a few minutes. "A bull?" he asked. "Has Antonio sent you?"

The bull grunted and stared back with a menacing gaze.

Beilschmidt narrowed his eyes and took the letter. He watched as the bull disappeared into the distance.

He unfolded the letter.

It was nothing new. For all the generations Beilschmidt had lived, Antonio had always taken a liking to invite Beilschmidt to come to his house and talk pointless chatter over a cup of tea. Beilschmidt could care less. He tapped the letter against his mouth, considering.

"I thought I heard something," Honda said, emerging. Beilschmidt was slightly surprised, but he did not jump, no matter how surprised he was. Honda could be quiet – far too quiet at times. He kissed Honda on the cheek. Never quiet when it mattered, though.

"I'm going out for a bit," Beilschmidt smiled, patting his head.

"Will you come back?" Honda asked. He sounded almost... Fond. Beilschmidt felt something tight in his stomach.

"Soon," Beilschmidt said, letting their foreheads touch. What he would do to spend a little more time with him.

It was always soon.

* * *

Antonio greeted him with a glass cup to his head when he popped into the room without much warning.

"Ow," Beilschmidt laments. "I thought you told me to come here."

"There's a door for visitors." the brunette chuckled.

"You've been living with your human far too long," Beilschmidt muttered. A demon shacking up with an annoying fruit seller. Peculiar indeed.

"Lovi, do you mind if you bring out the tea?" Antonio asked, turning his head.

The answer was the same as always - "I'm on it, bastard."

"Does it even have a point?" Beilschmidt said, later, after Vargas brought out tea and placated Antonio with a fresh confection. "Because if you had wanted a bit more variety in your love life, you could have just said so. I'd never turn you down if you offered -"

Vargas choked. Antonio pat his back, looking amused. After making sure his partner was okay, his face turned serious as he looked at Beilschmidt. "A devil is causing a ruckus again," he said. "Did you have something to do with this, Gil?"

Devils were always causing trouble. Beilschmidt sighed. Perhaps a devil ate Honda's friend. Honda would probably cry if he knew.

"No," Beilschmidt said. "I haven't come across any devils recently, I think."

Antonio growled. "You think?"

Vargas coughed politely. His partner calmed down.

"Look, I know you're some kind of amazing superhuman or whatever," Beilschmidt muttered, "But making Antonio cranky is ridiculous."

"It's just a bad day," Vargas says mildly. "Even humans have their secrets."

"Flaws, you mean?"

"Don't be such a dick."

Beilschmidt finished drinking his tea. "If there isn't anything else, then," he said, setting his cup down, ''I'll be taking my leave. Someone's waiting for me."

He rose from his seat. Vargas suddenly smiled at him, an unnerving smile. That human knows too much.

"Don't do anything stupid," Antonio warned.

"Don't worry, I'll be careful." Stupid? Of course not. Reckless? Maybe.

Vargas leaned against a wall, smirking. "Good luck with your new plaything, by the way."

It was Vargas who saw him to the doorway. The Italian human handed him a small slip of paper, and Beilschmidt unfolded it. He gazed at it for a moment, red eyes narrowing. He passed it back to Vargas, frowning.

"It'll make him happy, I'm sure," Vargas said. Not a demon, but still sly above all things. A human that saw too much would not last long in this earth. Beilschmidt almost felt sorry for Antonio, in all honesty.

"I don't like your personality," Beilschmidt admitted. Vargas laughed and shook his head.

Beilschmidt raised a hand, waving goodbye. He shut the door behind him, and traveled back to the only place he wanted to be in the most.

Though he's not sure if he's welcomed there, in the shadow of the missing companion.

* * *

Beilschmidt stared at his reflection, on the surface of the river. His ruby eyes, his silver hair. The white of his skin.

The image, on the paper, fit Honda's description perfectly. Blonde hair, pale skin, green eyes, and a arrogant mouth. He is familiar for some reason. Strange.

Honda deserved his peace, his brief moment of happiness. Peace is nothing to Beilschmidt, who has all the time in the world to get it. But humans, they are soft, and could break so easily. They value companionship far too much.

Beilschmidt felt as though he was going to lose part of himself.

Do it. Don't do it.

He'll love you. He'll hate you.

Beilschmidt shut his eyes. When he opened them again, his reflection was different. Changed. The mind trickery of it fooled even him. It could easily fool Honda.

He felt for his dagger, in his robe. He wanted to gouge out his eyes. He wanted to stab at this face – this face, which Honda seemed to love the most.

This house – this face's house – he reached it not long after. When Beilschmidt approached, he could see Honda sleeping on the floor.

He would kill to come home to this. What he would do, just for this.

"Kiku."

Honda's eyes flickered open, sleepy. He raised his head.

"Kiku," Beilschmidt said, in a strange man's voice. "I'm home."

Beilschmidt would be the one to make him happy.

* * *

**Chapter One - End**


End file.
